The Surprise
by TigressDreamer
Summary: Mother's Day is a day to celebrate mothers and Sombreville's newest expecting mother is adjusting well to her life in the little town. But is there something that they haven't talked about yet? (Sequel to The Change. Rated to be safe.)
1. The Surprise

**Disclaimer for the entire story: Sadly, I do not own Strange Magic, although I do have the DVD that I play once a week. I also do not own the song whose lyrics appear briefly. All names and places are coincidental.**

**A few days late but this story's plot surprised me. Halfway through this and I realized that I made a small contradiction back in The Plant, so I went and fixed that tiny one-word detail. I also realized that I mixed up fraternity for sorority, so I changed that to its right term in The Plan and The Change. Constructive advice is appreciated but please refrain from criticism. Enjoy!**

Marianne hums a melody as she puts the finishing touches on her miniature cake. It may not be award-worthy but she's sure her husband will enjoy the scrumptious treat when he gets done working.

"That looks lovely, dear," Griselda praises.

"Thanks. And thank you, Lizzie and Pare," Marianne comments.

"Your welcome," Lizzie murmurs distractedly, concentrating on her own miniature cake.

"It's the least we can do for all your help," Pare remarks. "Without you, we would have been up half the night getting all the Mother's Day desserts prepared since several of our workers are stuck home."

"Just the thing for Mother's Day, nearly half of the school-going kids in Sombreville down with the flu. Sometimes I think that school has forgotten how to use common sense," Griselda grouses. "What were they thinking by not letting that poor child stay at home?"

"They forgot how to think outside the book," Lucille quips, causing everyone to laugh.

"It's so good to have you back, Lucille," Griselda murmurs, wiping away the mirthful tears. "Though, I am surprised A.C. isn't hanging around and getting underfoot like a love-sick puppy."

"He doesn't entirely know that I'm back yet," Lucille admits. "He knows I'm back in the states but I didn't text him to tell him that I arrived home last night. Then this morning over breakfast Mom told me how Lizzie and Pare were shorthanded, so I figured it'd be better not to tell him until afterward or we'll never get any work done."

"Good thing you didn't text him," Marianne remarks. "Now that the snow finally left, A.C. is helping Bog build the foundation for our garage today and I'm quite sure Bog would have killed his little brother had he backed out."

"A.C. hadn't mentioned about Bog finally building that garage he's been talking about for five years. Of course, he might still be a little miffed that I thought he was joking when he told me two weeks ago that you and Bog had gotten married," Lucille mutters, exchanging the miniature cake she was decorating with an undecorated one in the cooler. "I would have thought he was joking about the baby had I not seen Maya's social media posts announcing to everyone that she is going to be an aunt. I know Bog is impetuous but I didn't think he was that impetuous."

"Well, this little one is kind of a surprise," Marianne chuckles sheepishly, rubbing her apron-covered stomach. "I've heard so many stories about women having trouble getting pregnant that I didn't think that that one time would be a problem."

"I know what you mean," Griselda laughs. "All my kids were unexpected. When we tried to have another baby after Bog was two, nothing happened. We started thinking that I might not be able to have any more kids and then Alan came along before Bog turned six."

Laughter sparks through the Primrose Diner's kitchen at the mention of A.C.'s hated first name. A groan is their only warning before the kitchen door swings open.

"Mom! Can you please...," A.C. starts. "Lucille, you're back!"

"Hey, watch the cake," Lucille warns as A.C. envelops her in a hug!

"Alan Roi, you had better be clean if you're in my kitchen," Lizzie growls, waving her decorating spatula threatening.

"Uhh...well...," A.C. stammers before quickly retreating back through the door. "I'm only here to tell Marianne that we're done with the foundation."

"I doubt Bog sent you," Marianne comments. "So, what did you do this time?"

"No matter what Bog says, it was an accident," A.C. insists.

Marianne puts her finished miniature cake in a take-out box before turning her attention to the sheepish brunette. It never bodes well when A.C. uses that line. She knows that from experience.

* * *

"Don't laugh," Bog grumbles, his blue eyes snapping with restrained irritation.

"I'm not laughing," Marianne denies, biting her lip in an effort to keep her laughter in. "How did you manage to get covered in concrete?"

"A.C. moved the chute while I was smoothing the foundation," he explains.

Hearing Bog curse about the cold water as he tries to clean the concrete off him with the garden hose, Marianne returns to the kitchen and fills a bucket with warm water. She chuckles at her husband's grateful praise.

"Beside A.C.'s short attention span, how did everything go," Marianne questions?

"We got it all done without any trouble and now we just have to wait for the concrete to set. I could definitely use that shower you suggested putting in there," Bog mentions.

"Just get your skin and hair cleared and then you can leave your clothes here and run into the bathroom," she suggests, giggling as Bog's blush manages to be seen through the grey muck.

"How'd everything go at Primrose," he asks?

"All the Mother's Day desserts are finished," Marianne states. "There are a few more cakes to decorate but I can't help with that. Luckily, Lucille came in to help shortly after I did, so it shouldn't take them that long to get the cakes finished."

"Lucille is home? I wonder why A.C. didn't say anything," Bog mutters.

"He didn't know. Lucille didn't text him when she got home last night and then she figured that she better not tell him until after everything at Primrose was finished," she explains. "He found out when he walked into the kitchen, though Lizzie threatened him with the spatula she was using and he ran out pretty quickly."

"It doesn't matter how nonthreatening an object is, if you mess with Lizzie's food, it becomes a lethal weapon," he remarks. "Did you pick up dinner?"

"It's not too close to dinner, so I picked up some pork chops from the store," Marianne comments. "Lizzie and Pare also let me make an extra cake for dessert tonight."

* * *

Bog smothers the laugh wanting to burst out at Marianne's frustrated groan. The chattering he can hear from the other end of the phone doesn't stop even for a second.

Just as they finished eating dinner, Dawn called and left him to do the dishes alone. A daily occurrence as Dawn and Sunny's wedding day draws closer.

"Alright. Yes, yes, I'll...Dawn, I said I'll do it," Marianne growls. "No, it won't be a prob...Dawn, will you let me get a word in!"

"Trouble," Bog questions?

"Sunny's parents surprised them with tickets to Johannesburg for a South African tour and the plane tickets are scheduled next Sunday," Marianne explains before glaring at her phone. "Yes, Dawn, Bog knows that I don't mean tomorrow or I would have said tomorrow. Just let me explain it to him."

"That sounds good, not trouble," he comments.

"The trouble is that the tour is fourteen days and that's not counting plane travel both ways. Therefore, they won't be back until June," she hints.

"But what about moving to Valeburg? They won't have time to do it before the wedding on Friday and Donald can't move everything himself," Bog remarks.

"Dawn is asking if I'll stay after the wedding and help Dad get everything ready. Which is fine because almost everything is already packed," Marianne comments, scoffing at an answer from the phone. "Of course I know that. I talked to Dad this morning and he was complaining that you actually packed his work suits. All of them!"

"Sounds like they could probably move right now," he chuckles. "Although, you really shouldn't be doing any heavy lifting, Marianne."

"I won't be," she assures. "Sunny's family might be disappointed in his 'pauper lifestyle' but he stubbornly outlasted them. They're being very supportive right now and even paid for movers. My opinion is that they can't wait to get him somewhere where they don't have to explain him to their clientele."

Bog winces at the loud protest from the other line and feels sympathy for his wife as she holds the phone far away.

"I'm not saying that they aren't nice," Marianne defends. "I'm just saying they are kind of snobbish. Oh, really? Did you happen to forget their disapproval when Sunny became friends with us? Uh, yeah. After Dad's business started flourishing and they could no longer accuse us of being friends with him solely because of his money. See! Even Sunny agrees with me and he should know, he's known them his whole life. Dawn, I would never do that and besides, I like the Larsons. Dawn, will you please calm down! Nothing is going to ruin your wedding. I didn't...Dawn, really I...good luck, Sunny!"

Marianne's aggravated groan as she ends the call makes Bog chuckle and he hugs her from behind. She accepts his upside-down kiss before leaning back against his chest.

"I don't know about you but I'm beginning to feel very grateful that we skipped the wedding and just got married," Bog laughs.

"No kidding," Marianne groans. "I know Dawn worries easily but this is ridiculous! No wonder Dad agreed to that business trip."

"I take it that the business deal doesn't need to be done before the wedding," he guesses.

"This particular business deal was scheduled for after he moved into the duplex in Valeburg but he changed it to Monday. Dawn doesn't know that though. She just thinks that the owner of the building that Dad is purchasing for his office in Valeburg is getting antsy to close the deal," she chuckles. "Dad had called after I arrived at Primrose to also tell me that he wants you and me to have dinner with him tomorrow when he arrives around noon. I told Griselda about it and she said that he can join us for lunch."

"You do realize that she's going to want him to tell anecdotes from when you were a baby, right," Bog asks?

"I know your mother," Marianne remarks.

* * *

"Tired," Bog questions?

"A bit," Marianne confesses. "At least we finally have the nursery walls done and this looks better than I thought it would."

Bog has to agree as he looks around the renovated room. They had already covered the full wall and the opposite half wall with the light green wallpaper last week, as well as covered the hardwood floors with plush beige carpet to lighten the room further. Now that the decals they chose finally arrived this afternoon, it's looking less like the guest bedroom and more like a nursery. He and A.C. had even moved the old furniture downstairs to take temporary residence in his office.

"Just need to get the baby's furniture made and we'll be almost all ready," Bog comments.

"Almost all ready? Please tell me you're joking," she laughs. "We still have a lot left to buy."

"Okay, maybe not almost all ready," he concedes with a chuckle. "You never realize how much stuff you need to get for a baby until you're getting ready to have one."

"Trying to make a list of baby stuff is more complicated than doing paperwork on the garages, the rental company, and Dad's business put together," Marianne mutters. "I'm so glad your parents helped us figure out what we need and what we don't. If it wasn't for them, it would have taken us ages to get it all planned."

"They also had ulterior motives," Bog reminds.

"Getting an early look at the baby list is far from a bad motive," she comments. "Besides, the triplets have already sent me a group text asking about the baby registry."

"Did you tell them that Sombreville gives babycare items to expecting mothers," he asks?

"Yeah. They said that if it wasn't for the cold, they'd move here themselves," Marianne chuckles. "By the way, do you know when that is going to happen? I asked Griselda but the only answer I got was that they wait until the expecting mother is in her second trimester."

"I'm not sure. The event committee usually brings it up during the council meetings but they didn't this month, even though both you and Stuff will be in your second trimester next week," Bog mutters.

"Maybe they didn't say anything because you're one of the expecting parents," she comments, getting a hum of agreement. "I also told the girls that absolutely no frillies if the baby is a girl. No point in buying useless add-ons that will only get in the way, especially since the baby won't be able to wear them that long, anyway. I doubt they'll listen any better than Dawn, who's already counted off the frilly dresses she's planning on buying."

Joining her laughter, Bog follows his wife out the nursery and turns off the light. The horse nightlight they couldn't resist buying when they purchased the wallpaper illuminates the room with a gentle glow. Sure, they didn't need to plug it in for several more months but it just seemed to make everything more real.  
He smiles at the whimsical night scene before entering the occupied bedroom, smiling further as the light reflects off of Marianne's wedding band as she changes her clothes. He can't resist hugging her from behind and rubbing the slight bump on her stomach after she takes off her shirt.

"Only five more weeks to go until we can start picking out baby names for our little prince or princess," Bog murmurs. "I love you so much, Mrs Roi."

"I love you so much more, Mr Roi," Marianne purrs as he starts planting kiss on her neck.

* * *

Marianne smiles at Bog's sleeping form, his short black hair tousled in a charming manner and tempting her to run her fingers through it again. She eases herself out of bed before redressing in her nightgown and heading downstairs. The waning fire in the fireplace gives little light and she adds a few more pieces of wood to fight the early morning spring chill. Turning the kitchen light on its dimmest setting, she sets about adding milk to a pan and setting it on the stove.

Despite trying to not make too much noise, it doesn't come as a surprise when another pair of hands grab the mug she is reaching for and another mug as well. She giggles softly and adds more milk to the pan before adding the homemade hot chocolate mixture. Her jovial mood doesn't last long and she sighs as she ladles out the warm liquid.

"Marianne," Bog questions softly?

"Bog, do you...I mean, I know we...," she starts before sighing again. "Do you think we're going too fast?"

"Too fast? No," he murmurs. "Do you?"

"No," Marianne answers. "But...it's just...this feels so right but what if we ever we come to the point that loving each other just isn't enough?"

"Love is enough," Bog states firmly. "Love and stubbornness, which we both have plenty of."

Marianne laughs at the true statement. She knows he's repeating the very same thing Loch and Griselda had given as their marriage blessing two weeks ago when they got married. Even though they were just planning to sign their marriage license with Preacher Jonas officiating without a big-to-do, that didn't exactly happen the way they planned.

For starters, Preacher Jonas had left Easter afternoon to go visit his sister in Stone Point and they had to wait until he returned on Wednesday before they could get officially married. That gave the scheming family and friends just enough time to put together a party. It may not have been the big wedding they had originally envisioned but she couldn't imagine anything better than what had actually happened.

The warm chocolate makes her hum in delight as she takes a sip before following Bog to the living room couch.

"So, what brought this up? If it's Lucille's fault then don't worry about it. She has a tendency to come off saying things that she doesn't mean like the way it sounds," he explains.

"Oh no, it's not Lucille," Marianne assures. "I just got to thinking about everything. I mean, we just met last Thanksgiving, we didn't spend much time with each other until Christmas, we started officially dating on New Year's Day, got pregnant the week after Valentine's, got married three days after Easter, and now, we're planning everything for the baby when we're not entirely sure that I'll be able to carry the baby full term. What if..."

"Marianne, everything is fine," Bog interrupts, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze. "The doctor already checked everything out, remember? You're not high-risk and you've already started taking precautions at work. What got you thinking about all that anyway? A bad dream?"

"Good guess," she chuckles, moving around to lean against his chest. "It's more than just that. What I didn't tell you last night is that Dad isn't coming alone. Mom is coming with him."

"Your mother? I thought she had died," he comments.

"I can see why you thought that with how little I talk about her but the truth is that she's alive," Marianne murmurs. "Kind of funny that we've been married for two weeks and this hasn't been talked about yet but I just didn't know how to bring it up."

"What happened," Bog asks?

"After Dawn graduated high school five years ago, Mom...well, she divorced Dad and just left," she answers. "No warning. No explanation. I came home from work one day and all of Mom's things were packed. She said goodbye and left. She sends birthday cards each year from somewhere different, postcards from different countries, and once a year she comes to visit for several weeks, usually around Mother's Day. It's why Dawn scheduled her wedding for the Friday after Mother's Day, so as to make sure that Mom would be there."

"Was your mother...involved with someone else," he questions hesitantly?

"No. They may be divorced but you'd think they're still married with the way they act around each other. Dad says that Mom has a bit of wanderlust and that she's always had it but she kept it contained because there were more important things than look for the newest adventure," Marianne explains. "They love each other so much but love wasn't enough for them. Love wasn't enough to keep her grounded or to give Dad wings."

"If you're worried that will happen to us, then don't, because it won't," Bog assures, kissing her forehead. "I have my own set of wings should yours get restless."

* * *

Marianne can't restrain the sigh as she hears a familiar voice over the noise of the other diners. She loves her mother, she does, but even after five years, it's hard to not to still feel hurt by her mother's abandonment. Maybe it wouldn't have felt like that if there was some warning but there wasn't, at least none that Marianne had seen.

It didn't help that Annabelle Windsor lived a fast lifestyle and her daughters had inherited their poor communication skills from her. Not to mention, a lot of the places she traveled to didn't exactly have accessible or affordable communication networks.

"Are you okay, Marianne dear," Griselda questions softly?

"I'm good! I mean, I'm fine," Marianne murmurs.

"You don't need to lie to us to spare our feelings, Marianne. Donald called me two days ago when Annabelle arrived there and he explained a few things," Loch confesses.

"So that's why you didn't ask any questions when I told you that my mom was coming," Marianne mutters.

"That's why," Griselda affirms, grabbing Marianne's hand between hers. "It's also why I had A.C. and Maya help Bog deliver the Mother's Day gifts, first to all the mothers still at home before coming here, so you wouldn't have to worry about an active audience. Donald said that you've been having a strained relationship with your mother since she left to travel the world and he was worried that her arrival might stress you out with all the changes that you've been going through lately. If you really don't feel up to having dinner with us all gathered, then it's okay."

"I'm fine, really," Marianne reassures.

"Oh, that is lovely!"

Snickering at her mother's famous enthusiasm, Marianne turns her attention to her parents as they follow Lucille out of the arched hallway. Her shock doesn't permit her to speak, even as introductions are made and her mother envelops her in a hug. Only a teasing remark of letting the flies in gets her mouth to move from its hanging position.

"What did you do to your hair," Marianne breathes in shock!

"Don't you like it? I thought it looked nice," Annabelle hums, patting the shoulder length curls. "It's called unicorn hair and I got it done in Boston."

Her mother's beautiful hair! Gone was the golden hair that Dawn had inherited and in its place is a light mixture of silver, teal, blue, pink, and violet. Okay, maybe it did look nice but this is her mother! Her mother who now looks closer to her age instead of the refined older woman that she is.

"She's only teasing, my dear," Donald chuckles, giving the shocked Marianne a hug and a kiss on her cheek. "It's a wig."

"Did you do this to Dawn," Marianne asks?

"Dawn doesn't know I'm back yet," Annabelle confesses, sitting in the seat Donald pulls out for her. "We thought it best to talk to you first or you'll hear it as secondhand news from her."

Marianne's questioning thought is distracted as Bog and his siblings enter the dining room and begin distributing the wrapped gift baskets. She raises her eyebrow as several non-mothers receive gifts as well but Griselda quickly explains that mother figures and expecting mothers are included. A helpful explanation that keeps her from being shocked as the trio finish their trip around the large room and Bog hands her a wrapped gift basket before giving her a kiss on her forehead.

"I'm afraid that we don't have one prepared for you, Miss Windsor," Bog murmurs.

"That's alright. I am a bit of a surprise, after all," Annabelle giggles. "Besides, the best Mother's Day gift is knowing how much you love my daughter. Donald has told me a great deal about you and all that you've done for my family. First, you rescue Marianne and then you rescue Donald. You're a regular superhero!"

Marianne snickers at her blushing husband's stuttered denials and peers through the clear cellophane surrounding her gift basket. She gasps softly as she notices the potted miniature rose bush surrounded by several packets of flower bulbs and seeds.

"I suggested to the event committee that you'd love those. Don't think that I didn't notice you fawning over the plants in my sunroom," Griselda chuckles. "I got most of my roses as Mother's Day gifts and there isn't a color that I haven't got."

"Don't be so sure about that, Mom," Maya remarks, handing over a wrapped gift basket to Griselda.

"Oh, you found a new color! Such good children," Griselda coos, admiring the pink-tipped white roses.

"Only the best for our dearest and short mother," A.C. quips.

"I may be short but I'm at the perfect height..." Griselda starts.

"...to hit below the belt," Loch, Bog, and A.C. finish.

* * *

"This place is lovely," Annabelle comments as she walks into the house. "And you said you built this yourself?"

"Not entirely by myself," Bog corrects. "The nursery is the second door upstairs but there isn't much there yet, we only just got the walls finished."

Bog chuckles as the pair ignore the last part and walk up the stairs with enthusiasm. Marianne wasn't kidding when she said that you'd never suspect that Donald and Annabelle were divorced with how they act toward each other. They remind him of his own parents.

Turning his attention to the opening bathroom door, he envelops the emerging Marianne in a hug and rubs her back. Her amber eyes betray her misery before she burrows her head into his chest and he brushes his hand through her short brown hair to soothe her.

"Feeling better," Bog asks?

"I thought morning sickness was supposed to go away at the second trimester," Marianne whines.

"You're not quite into the second trimester," he reminds, chuckling as she sticks her tongue at him. "Your parents are upstairs inspecting the nursery."

"And they call me impatient," she mutters. "Come on, let's make some tea. They're gonna be a while since Mom is probably arranging the furniture in her head."

"So that's where you get it from," Bog comments.

"From both of them actually because Dad does it too," Marianne remarks, pulling from his embrace. "But Mom is an artist."

It doesn't take long for the water in the kettle to boil but even as the ginger tea seeps, there is still no arrival of their guests. Bog sets the prepared tea in front of Marianne before sitting beside her. Despite them returning to sleep this morning after they had finished their hot chocolate, he can see how tired she is but he knows that she won't take a nap until her parents leave.

"How are you feeling," he questions softly? "I mean, about your mother being here?"

"I'm glad she's here," Marianne assures before sighing. "But it's a bit hard knowing that she'll be leaving again in another month or so."

"Maybe she'll stick around longer this time," Bog murmurs.

"Doubtful," she mutters, taking a sip of her tea. "That first time she left, I was so scared that Dad would get a call about Mom dying in some far off land and that we wouldn't be able to see her again. When she finally came back eleven months later and told us about all the places she's been and everything she has done, I thought maybe she had gotten her fill of traveling but then she left again weeks later without warning. I wasn't even able to be around her that much because business at the garage was so busy and there was no way I was going to make Dawn work when she wanted to be with Mom. The next times that she came home, I was better at dealing with her next absence because I knew she wouldn't be staying long."

Bog pulls Marianne against his chest and lays his head on top of hers after kissing her forehead. He can clearly hear the unspoken words that said that she had stopped hoping for her mother's permanent return. He had never asked about her mother's missing presence because he had assumed that it was painful for her to talk about since she had never brought it up, a true assumption but not for the reasons he had thought.

"Maybe that's why I forgot to mention about her," Marianne murmurs, startling him out of his thoughts. "Just like three months ago with Dad, how many times in the last five years have there been close calls where an official nearly had to call to report Mom's death? How many more are still to come? Mom can die in some far off place and we'll never know until it's too late. It's like Mom is dead most of the year until she remembers about us and then she becomes alive again for several weeks before dying all over."

"Oh, sweetheart," Annabelle moans.

* * *

Marianne looks up toward the door and can't help feeling guilty looking into her mother's watery blue eyes. She didn't plan on having them being overheard. Though, from her father's calm green eyes staring back at her, she suspects that he's known how she felt for at least a little while.

"How much did you hear," Marianne questions?

"From when Bog asked how you are feeling with your mother being here," Donald answers, guiding Annabelle to one of the kitchen chairs. "Now, Annabelle, you know I don't really like saying I told you so but I did tell you."

"I know," Annabelle sighs. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way, Marianne. It's just...do you remember how sick I was the year you graduated?"

"Yeah, I remember," Marianne murmurs. "You were taking treatments for breast cancer."

"All those days of sitting in the hospital and all I could think about was how I would never get to see all those places I've always dreamed of visiting. It might sound a bit selfish to just be thinking about that but I knew that surviving the cancer was the easy part, it was living afterward that would be the hard part," Annabelle explains. "Your father, the big softie, had me make a list of everything I still wanted to do and everywhere I wanted to go while I was going through the treatments as an encouragement to get better. When the cancer went into complete remission, the doctor warned us that it had a high chance of coming back three to five years later but when it still hadn't returned by the year that Dawn had graduated, I wanted to make sure that if it ever did come back that there wouldn't be one thing on that list that I hadn't done."

"There was no telling if or when the cancer would return and your mother had a very big list," Donald continues as Annabelle wipes away her tears. "However, by that time, my business had started flourishing and I couldn't leave for weeks to months at a time, so your mother had to travel alone. There wasn't a way for you girls to accompany her since you were running The Blacktop Butterfly and Dawn was heading to college."

"Why didn't you say something to me and Dawn," Marianne asks?

"I didn't think it would bother you this badly," Annabelle mutters sheepishly. "I mean, you were both grown and starting to accomplish your own dreams. You didn't need me like you used to, so I thought it would be fine for me to be gone for a little while. Plus, I didn't think it would take me that long to do everything but you know how I get when I'm painting."

"Sounds like a certain mechanic I know," Bog quips, grunting at Marianne's retaliatory shoulder slap. "I could have been talking about your sister, you know."

"Yeah, right," Marianne scoffs, glaring playfully at him before turning her attention back to her parents. "If you were just traveling then why the divorce?"

"Thompson had suggested it to protect the business. He said that it might not look good in the public's eyes for my wife to be traveling without me, that rumors would arise and it wouldn't be as damaging if we were divorced. I should have realized that he was an idiot right then and there," Donald mutters, ignoring the laughter. "I'm just as guilty for not saying anything but I also didn't realize that you girls were taking your mother's traveling as her leaving the family. That is, not until my accident when you both expressed your feelings about losing me as well."

"The thing is, sweetheart, I didn't want to have to go through the despair of sitting in a hospital bed again and writing a list of regrets," Annabelle explains. "But I never forgot about you or your sister or your father. None of you had stopped being important to me and I hated being away from my family. It's why I was so excited to come home and share everything I experienced."

Sighing, Marianne lays her head back on her husband's chest, grateful as he brushes a calming hand through her hair. It made sense and she finally got an explanation but she'd be lying if she said that it'll make it easier to say goodbye to her mother when she leaves again.

"I didn't mean to be gone for months on end but I had to condense all my travels together. There wouldn't have been enough time, otherwise," Annabelle continues.

"Wait, what do you mean not enough time? Mom," Marianne whines worriedly!

"No, no, no, no, sweetheart, not like that! I'm fine and the cancer is still in complete remission," Annabelle reassures hastily. "What I mean is that I have no plans to miss out on my life just to chase after a dream."

"Meaning," Marianne asks?

"I'm through with traveling," Annabelle states.

"Do you promise," Marianne questions?

"I may do a little traveling with your father, honeymoon and all that," Annabelle amends, cupping Donald's face with her left hand and returning his loving gaze. "But the only thing left on my list is to grow old with my husband and enjoy my time with my family."

If there is only one thing to say about Annabelle Windsor/Crown, it's that she is full of surprises. Evidenced by the new wedding band that Marianne hadn't noticed on top of her mother's old wedding band.

**Tea Blend.**


	2. Astounding

**Astounding**

**A week of surprises can't make you immune to more.**

"Ah! There's no place like home," Marianne murmurs happily as she opens the front door.

Bog hums his agreement as he carries their luggage into the living room. It was different traveling to Marianne's hometown now that she didn't live there and three days had felt like forever.

At least with Annabelle's return, Marianne doesn't have to stay longer to help with the moving. A blessing since he knows that it would feel like an eternity to be separated from her for so long.

He chuckles as a song resonates through his mind at the thought. Feeling playful, he places his left hand over his heart while offering his right hand toward Marianne.

"_**To thee I'll return, overburdened with care. The heart's dearest solace will smile on me there**_," he sings.

"_**No more from that cottage again will I roam**_," Marianne continues before chuckling. "It's funny. Before five years ago, I had a thirst for adventure but when Mom left, I buried it under my work. It was still there but I was afraid of it...until I met you."

"I make you thirst for adventure, do I," Bog questions?

"You are my adventure," she purrs, wrapping her arms around his waist. "And now I have no desire to roam anywhere where you aren't."

Capturing his wife's offered lips, Bog moans in delight as Marianne's hands wander across his back. He groans for a different reason when he hears gagging. He reluctantly pulls back from Marianne's embrace to glare at his younger brother's form situated in the kitchen door.

"What are you doing here," Bog growls?

"You asked me to take care of the horses, remember? As well as making sure that the concrete cures properly," A.C. comments.

"Let me rephrase that then. What are you still doing here," Bog asks?

"This cake was about to expire," A.C. mentions, shoving a piece of cake into his mouth.

"He's too curious to wait," Maya remarks, walking out of the kitchen with her own piece of cake. "How'd your trip go? Oh, wait! How'd the wedding go? Was it perfect? Did anything surprising happen? Did anyone obje..."

Bog's irritation at his siblings disappears as Maya bites the hand that is covering her mouth and he joins Marianne in her laughter as A.C. retaliates by smearing the cake's frosting across her face. Maya's attempt to do the same is thwarted by her older brother's six-six height but the five-foot-four woman's determination knows no bounds and the older pair laughs harder as A.C. tries to shake the clinging parasite off his back.

* * *

"I didn't do anything bad or make any mistakes," A.C. swears. "I finished all the work you left for me to do and I also delivered Mrs Roxton's car to her now that she returned. To which I had to set through an hour of her showing me pictures of her newborn grandsons."

"How is the younger Mrs Roxton doing," Marianne questions?

"She's doing good," Maya answers, sipping from her glass of fruit punch. "Cora said that her sister is very grateful that her mother-in-law stayed the extra two weeks to help them out with the triplets. It's a good thing she went into labor before she left but the women are annoyed by the side effect of pleasing the Star Wars fans of their family with the boys being born on May fourth. Mrs Roxton threatened her son with bodily harm when he suggested naming one of her grandsons Anakin. He still had a victory by naming the little guys Luke, Han, and Ben."

Bog holds his hands up in defense at Marianne's glare directed toward him. He may like Star Wars but he isn't that crazy a fan.

"Oh, and all my sorority sisters are thrilled by the work you did on Mrs Roxton's car," Maya continues. "They want to know when you'll start accepting work from other areas."

"Not anytime soon," A.C. mutters. "We're going to be more swamped when Foret Lodge opens next week."

"Don't worry, A.C," Marianne soothes. "Dawn and Sunny are planning on waiting before they open a garage in Valeburg. They decided that it would be easier to snuff out the Valeburg competition if they build up a good reputation with the Valeburg citizens first, so they're going to work in Sombreville's Blacktop Butterfly once they get back from their trip."

"Which will save Marianne from lifting and bending too much," Bog comments.

"I get to do all the paperwork. Yippee," Marianne deadpans, grinning at the laughter.

* * *

"We're gone for a full day and two half days and they act as if we abandoned them," Bog huffs, brushing the demanding Goblin. "They weren't even this bad when I spent those four days visiting you after Valentine's."

"Apparently, they don't think that going to my sister's wedding was a good enough reason to be gone," Marianne chuckles as she brushes Fairy.

"We did more than just go to the wedding, remember? I'm very glad that those three don't like snow or Sombreville would be overrun with meddling troublemakers," he remarks.

Marianne laughs with him as she leads Fairy back to her stall. It really was an eventful few days being back in her hometown. They didn't even get the chance to relax once they stepped off the plane and into Charles Craig's cab. The sneaky driver had driven them straight to the city park with excuses about avoiding construction and some such nonsense. It wasn't until they noticed the large crowd gathered did they know that they've been tricked.

Rose, Ivy, and Violet had thrown them a surprise post-wedding party that somehow got nearly every client to The Blacktop Butterfly invited, as well as all the kids she taught the automotive program to. Dawn, of course, had known what they were up to and had encouraged them in revenge for not being able to throw a going away party before she moved in March.

"I'd say that I can't believe that they did all that but I'd be lying," Marianne comments. "I am shocked by the turnout, though. So many people showed up to congratulate us and I may have only met them a few times."

"You make a lasting impression," Bog murmurs, giving her a kiss before leading Goblin to his own stall. "Though, about the gifts..."

"The girls swore that they said on the invitations that gifts were not expected and they even showed me a copy of the invitation to prove it," she mentions. "However, they didn't discourage anyone who said they wanted to get us something."

"That is obvious," he chuckles. "It's a good thing your parents suggested bringing everything up with them when they drive up here. Money is easy to transport, baby items are not."

The scheming blonde had also provided the triplets a copy of Marianne and Bog's baby list, courtesy of Maya, who had procured the copy from her position as a participant of Sombreville's event committee. The surprise post-wedding party had turned into a surprise baby shower before it finally ended around sunset.

They would have overslept the following morning if it wasn't for the supernova that was her mother. Annabelle had gotten them fed and dressed shortly after sunrise before kicking Bog and her dad out of the house for the girls to spend some quality time together before the wedding at noon. The men were only too happy to escape the inevitable pampering.

* * *

"By the way, I forgot to ask before but who was that guy who made the crude remark at the wedding reception of at least Dawn waiting before having a baby," Bog questions?

"More like you were laughing too hard about Sunny's older brothers escorting the idiot out the hard way," Marianne quips, snickering at her husband's innocent expression. "That was Thompson, who used to be Dad's assistant until he was demoted four years ago when Dad overheard him complaining about me, a little girl, helping Dad out with business matters instead of him, a man. Dad might actually fire him this time, which is kind of a pity because he is a good worker...whenever his sexist views doesn't cause a problem."

"I'm quite sure you said something about that before," he mutters as he holds the back door open for her. "Oh, wait, I remember! Isn't that the guy you dated for a little while until you realized that he thought a woman's only place was at home to serve her husband?"

"That's him," she affirms. "I guess I dated fools so that I wouldn't get attached to them before I met my king. My king, who is so much more a man than those little boys ever were."

"Flatterer," Bog chuckles before giving her a lingering kiss.

"You two are so sweet," Griselda coos, laughing as the pair quickly separate.

"Mom! Wh...what are you doing here," Bog groans?

"I thought that I'd have you two to come over for dinner since you two are probably tired from everything that has happened," Griselda comments.

"You could've have called," Bog mutters.

"Phone calls are too easy to ignore," Griselda remarks. "Well, let's get going or the food will get cold."

Bog sighs in exasperation as his mother insists on having Marianne ride with her before dragging his poor wife out the front door. No doubt she wants to hear every single detail of the surprise parties and of the wedding.

He chuckles as he follows his mother's green VW Beetle toward his parent's home. Whatever was being said had both women talking animatedly, even as they pull into the driveway with him close behind. The conversation becomes silent as he exits his truck and he raises an eyebrow as his mother quickly scurries into the large cabin.

"Do I want to know what you talked about with my mother," Bog asks?

"Well...uh...you know how our parents were talking on Sunday about when we were young," Marianne starts.

"The embarrassing anecdotes that dominated dinner loud enough for everyone to hear? No, I don't believe I know," he mumbles.

"Anyway," she chuckles. "I talked to your parents about something from their stories. I mean, I know we have a lot on our hands right now but I was thinking that it might not be a bad idea. So I asked them what they thought and they said that they would check things out for me. We don't have much stuff left to get thanks to the Sombreville's babycare gifting and the surprise baby shower. Plus, your parents have already mentioned that they would help us if we need it. You don't have to agree if you..."

"Marianne, it's alright," Bog murmurs, caressing her lips with his silencing finger. "I trust your judgment."

"That's a pity because I was beginning to hope we could keep her," Loch remarks.

Bog turns to his approaching father before dropping his attention to the small figure walking beside him. Marianne's hand on his arm breaks him out of his shocked silence.

"She looks like Amber," Bog breathes.

"This is Dragonfly," Loch explains, leaning down to pet the apricot Standard Poodle puppy. "I contacted the Deetzs after Marianne asked us about Amber on Monday and while they had originally wanted to keep Dragonfly for breeding, Fredrick said that there is no one better to have Amber's great-great-great-granddaughter than you."

Brushing away the tears falling from his blue eyes, Bog kneels down to run a hand through the curly coat of his childhood friend's descendant.

**Tea Blend.**


End file.
